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“Positive. The man is reviled across the seas for his cruelty. You should hear what they sing about him in the taverns,” they say, launching into a shanty song, “He’s a man of blood and iron and brawny stock, carries a machete and a list of names as long as his–”
“Ugh. Stop.” I wave my hands through their essence to cut them off. “You sang that one last week.”
“Huh. I must’ve forgotten.”
“I don’t know how you can joke around about this. The ritual requires precision,” I remind them. “Everything must be perfect if you want me to uphold my end of our agreement.”
“I have faith that you’ll get it right.” The water bubbles with a chuckle. “There’s no doubt in my mind I’ll be free to fly wherever I want tomorrow night.”
I watch the moonbeam slide across the altar, illuminating the sacred items we’ve gathered over the years. They’re all arranged neatly on the flat surface.
“It’s strange, isn’t it?” I muse. “To be this close to accomplishing something that felt so impossible when we first started working together?”
“Yes. I wonder how it will feel when everything changes.”
I grab my pendant, letting its bottom point dig into my skin. Where will they fly off to when they’re no longer bound to me?
They’ve never mentioned any living friends or family in this realm.
“It’s getting late,” they say, breaking the silence. “You should get going.”
“You’re right.” My sailor will be waiting. “I’ll see you tomorrow at moonrise.”
“Tomorrow at moonrise,” they echo, their energy draining from the water as they disappear.
My pendant drops against my chest, cold and empty. I twist it along the chain to hide it beneath my hair and swim to the east, to the dreadful farewell that awaits me.
Heaving my body onto a slanted rock, I stare over the edge of my perch. The shoreline is shrouded in mist, but I can make out the row of colorful shops stacked above the seawall, and the cliff bellying out from the beach.
Fog swirls around the jagged sea stacks that lend us some privacy from the castle atop the precipice. The lantern hanging from my sailor’s rowboat flickers inside the hidden cove.
Notes of flute music float on the breeze as she plays a tune signaling that it’s safe to meet. My heart pinches.
Oh, how I’ll miss watching her long fingers skip down the instrument.
I shake the thought away. I’ll have centuries to feel this sadness.
Tonight, I want to savor one last sweet memory.
I dive beneath the water to sneak up on her, but I sense something stirring in the deep as I’m about to pass beneath her hull.
Closing my eyes, I go still and concentrate on the shifting current. Its pull is too strong to be the moon tugging the tide beneath my fin.
I don’t think we’re alone out here.
“Look out,” I shout as I come to the surface, my words like gravel in my throat without my Ocean Voice to soften them.
The sailor flicks her gaze my way, then she bends over an open trunk lying on her plank bench. In one fluid motion, she pulls out a harpoon gun and slots a spear into it.
I blink at the weapon. Why does she have that?
She sails for her family’s small shipping company. According to her, it’s dull work with long hours and very few dangerous encounters.
But the gleaming tip of that spear is designed to kill.
She swivels her torso in my direction and slings the harpoon gun over her shoulder, aiming right at me.
Blurred images of an old memory sharpen into focus. Storm clouds hanging so low I can’t tell where they end and the rain begins. A crack of lightning. Gleaming weapons flying from all directions. Sharp tips piercing scales and skin.
